Teddy Bears
by Belliadonna
Summary: Chrom was ever the doting father. For the Greatnerdowl.


Fluff. It's everywhere. -sneezes-  
This is actually for Greatnerdowl who indulged me in the last fic. Thanks a bunch, sweetie. Here's your giiift. Albeit, one year later (almost). :/

* * *

The early winter winds of late November brushed against Chrom's cheek, tossing his scarf as well as the last of autumn's brightly coloured leaves into the air. His breath came out in cold puffs as he tried to push down the bubbling merriness that had infused his soul the moment he grabbed his coat, rode the elevator down from his top-floor office, filled with grumpy directors and pompous advisors, and walked out of his familial obligation. There was a lot of things that gave Chrom pleasure. Working for his sister used to motivate him like nothing else, but since the past seven months, his attentions had shifted from managing the family business to something far more precious.

Autumn was the most beautiful season in his opinion. The amber and oranges of the trees sparkled lightly in the fading afternoon sun, small drops of an earlier shower blinking. Cars hummed on the roads, in a hurry to get where they were supposed to be, just like he was. People walked about him, their heads bowed in reverence to their devices, failing to notice the crisp, cloudless blue sky above them. Chrom felt the most alive at this moment, especially after a day at the office. In his hand was a small briefcase with documents he will have to do when he gets home…maybe. There was far too many things he'd rather do than do at home with work. His wife would definitely chew him out for this, as she also was a workaholic, and they both agreed to leave work where it is supposed to be. She will have to forgive him, just this time. Surely she will understand his excitement.

He rounded the corner, smelling the familiar scent of coffee hit his nose as the neighborhood café brewed another warm cup for those chilled by autumn. His excitement was making him want to sprint across the street and knock down his apartment door—the only thing holding him back would be the disgruntled faces of the people that were walking down the street about him. He kept himself composed for the last five or so minutes before he could arrive into the tiny townhouse with an equally tiny garden in the front that he has called his home for the past seven years. His hands fished for the jangle of unlabeled keys in his coat pocket and unlocked the front door, greeted by the soothing scent of pan-fried chicken and the mellowed vanilla from the candles that his wife loved to burn. The low murmur of the television floated in from the room to his left. He hung his coat and scarf on the antiquated hooks next to him, on the wall—the ones that he promised to replace the moment he found time, but over the years he and his wife had learned to ignore the minor eyesore. He tucked his shoes into the racks and walked into their living room, completely forgetting his briefcase in the hallway and his keys, which were still stuck fast on the other side of the door.

The first thing he saw was snow-white hair that was peeking over an old couch, faded with time and memories. Her voice floated above the noise of the television as she talked amiably to someone that he couldn't see, but whom he was very familiar with.

"Robin, I'm home." He said as he walked up to her sitting in the large faded furniture, her body swaddled in the batik blanket that her best friend has sent her with love from Plegia. She turned from the book on her lap and smiled happily at her husband, who crouched before her so his face was the same height as her shoulder. She leaned forward and hugged him, smelling the cool scent of the world outside on his lapel mixed with the clean scent of the after-shave she had bought him for his birthday a few months ago.

"Welcome home, Chrom." She greeted him after they broke their embrace. Her eyes were sparkling, though the bags underneath them were tell-tale of the nights she had to lay awake, as sleep evaded her quite easily nowadays.

"How are you holding up? Princess Lucina engaging you in sparring matches yet again?" Chrom joked lightly as he sat next to her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as his other hand laid contentedly on Robin's stomach, feeling the taut skin over her rounded belly. She shivered a little at the sensation of his cold hands, but nonetheless adored the warmth that began to bloom where his hand was. It has been five years into their marriage, and even longer in their courtship, but the feel of his skin against hers still made her heart flutter happily.

"I thought I told you that HIS name is to be Morgan?" She laughed as she placed her book next to feet, terribly swollen, on the coffee table. "Morgan has been behaving all day, strangely enough. He seems to stop kicking after I start reading him fairy tales."

Chrom quirked an eyebrow, his lips stretched into a proud grin. "It would seem as if Lucina has inherited her mother's love of books!"

She scowled playfully at the name. She loved the name Lucina—in fact it was her suggestion in the beginning. However Morgan was equally as beautiful to her ears, and due to the motherly instinct that she had grown to vouch for her actions in the past seven months, she believed it to be the perfect name for their son when he arrived. Chrom seems to think that the baby within her is a girl, with blue hair like her father and sparkling blue eyes like her mother, and often the couple would playfully argue over their child, whom they decided to meet only as soon as he or she is ready to come. Meanwhile the two will-be parents live in a constant happy bliss that the gods seemed to have gifted them. If there was such a thing as a past life or ethereal deities, the gods must have owed them quite a bit for them to end up so happy-especially in today's reality.

"By the way! What is that?" Robin asked Chrom as she turned her attention to a plastic bag next to Chrom. It had the bright yellows and reds of a nearby toy store, and the brown bit of the toy that was not quite obscured by the plastic made Robin shake her head in laughter.

"Ah! Right! I completely forgot about this!" Chrom exclaimed as he reached into the bag and pulled out a smiling plush bear with a large blue bow around its neck and a tiny yellow felt crown on its head. "It's for our little royalty. When they come." He smiled as he placed the soft animal against Robin's tummy, as if the motion would allow the child within to see and feel the gift that the doting father has bought them. Robin did nothing but smile at the tenderness that her husband is showing their little one. She took his head into her hands and kissed the sweet man's forehead, relishing in the sweet warmth that he seemed to always cause within her heart.

"Not another teddy bear, Chrom. You've bought at least seventeen of them already!" Robin giggled, placing the bear on her husband's lap.

"Nothing's too much for my sweet little Lucina."

"Morgan."

"Robin, no."


End file.
